A Place to Put One’s Head

A-place-to-put-one's-head


 

My body floats inches under the ceiling
I enjoy looking up at my private heaven
White painted popcorn, each wrinkle a star
Every sweep of my hand crosses dozens of light years
A man can lie there

I’m not sure why I drank all the fluids
For engines, not people
The taste was awful but I am on a diet
I wanted solitude, peace
Not a scope down my throat
Now I just lie
It’s hard to fly up when your arms are strapped down

Suicide is surrender
I didn’t want to die, just go
When you’ve made a mess, you leave

Soon as they let me I’ll visit my heaven
Touch all the stars with the tips of my fingers
Meet some new beings who might understand

Quietly I’ll hang above, drift back and forth
A man can lie there

Posted in Medicine.